


Obsession and Frustration

by GeckoGirl89



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Angst, Blood Kink, F/M, Forbidden Love, Masturbation, POV Angel (BtVS), Pining, Season/Series 03, Sexual Fantasy, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 07:24:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10826538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeckoGirl89/pseuds/GeckoGirl89
Summary: More often than not, Angel was celibate and sexually frustrated.Lately, Cordelia hadn't been helping matters.





	Obsession and Frustration

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "any, Any, Blue balls" on fic-promptly: http://fic-promptly.dreamwidth.org/505317.html?thread=15108069#cmt15108069
> 
> This is set right after 3.06 (Billy) but before the "kyerumption" conversation in 3.07 (Offspring).

Angel had one of the worst cases of blue balls in the history of mankind. He'd had plenty of sex as Liam and even more after he had been turned into a vampire, but things had changed after he regained his soul. Angel had become a recluse and had little contact with anyone until he met Buffy. After he learned about the nasty escape hatch in his curse and the disastrous consequences of having sex, he had abstained barring one night of despair with his sire Darla. More often than not, Angel was celibate and sexually frustrated.  
  
Lately, Cordelia hadn't been helping matters.  
  
He had noticed that Cordelia was an attractive woman before, of course. A man would have to be gay or blind to not notice her, and Angel was neither of those things. But in Sunnydale, he had been focused on Buffy. When he came to L.A., Angel was determined to start a new life for himself focused on doing good in the world and not on any romantic entanglements. He built a friendship with Cordelia, and he ignored any inconvenient thoughts that could have complicated that. Angel was good at repressing things, and he repressed so well that he was almost able to pretend that he had no attraction to Cordelia in the first place.  
  
Things started to change after his epiphany and return to his friends. Cordy had been hostile and cold to him at first, and that upset Angel more than it should have. For some inexplicable reason, he felt like he needed her friendship and forgiveness more than he did his other teammates. Wesley had gotten a little too close to the truth with his comment that Angel wanted Cordy's "affections." When she finally forgave him, he felt much too elated about her reaction to the new clothes he had bought her and had even bounced along to the little dance she did (which was not like Angel, who did _not_ dance spontaneously like that). It wasn't just the forgiveness (not really). Looking back, it probably had something to do with the kiss she had exuberantly pressed to his cheek without thinking about it. And then when she said "I love you" after Angel had bought her all of those sandwiches, Angel had felt like he was on cloud nine and had grinned wider than he knew was possible. His reactions to the last two events were concerning, because Angel was way too happy about things that were so innocent.  
  
Angel's reaction to the skimpy bikini Cordelia wore for that suntan commercial was definitely not innocent. He had never seen that much of her body before, and he did a triple take at the sight of her. The thought crossed his mind that he wanted to see all of her. His mouth felt parched, and his pants grew uncomfortably tight.  
  
The casting director made a rude comment, and Angel wanted to rip the guy's head off. His violent reaction couldn't be entirely blamed on how protective he was of Cordelia. He was incredibly frustrated, and at the moment, it had been easier to channel that frustration into rage. Maybe if he punched something, he would be able to stop thinking about how tantalizing Cordy looked in that bikini.  
  
Once he had gotten home and had a moment to himself in his locked hotel room, the frustration returned along with the memory of Cordy in that revealing garment. Angel bit his lip to stifle a groan and sat on his bed. He hated himself for it, but he undid his pants and took out his cock to relieve the intense pressure that settled in his groin. He closed his eyes and began to stroke himself, feeling guilty the entire time. He was objectifying Cordelia just as badly as that casting director had, even if it was only in his own mind, and he was sullying his relationship with his best friend. But he couldn't stop thinking about removing her bikini top and bottom, kissing her all over, and feeling her slide on top of his dick. The image his mind formed of her riding him with wild abandon, breasts bouncing and hands planted on his chest, squeezing her tight inner walls around him, and chanting out his name was more than enough to quickly bring him over the edge. As Angel spilled into his own hand with a hiss of Cordelia's name, he knew that something had irrevocably changed and that he would never be able to go back to the way things once were.  
  
Angel was right. Things only got more confusing for him in Pylea, where he had been weirdly disappointed by the fact that Cordelia was saying she loved the Groosalugg and not him. Buffy's death and leaving for Sri Lanka to properly grieve his first love didn't clarify things for him either. He was sad about Buffy's passing, but he also guiltily found himself missing Cordy and constantly thinking of her whenever he wasn't contemplating Buffy's passing. He would imagine what Cordy would say in response to certain events and fantasize about her when he first woke or just before he fell asleep, when his inhibitions were at their weakest. Angel wished he had the restraint and self-denial of the monks surrounding him, but he doubted that even they would be able to have completely pure thoughts if they had seen Cordelia in her Pylean princess outfit. His overactive mind constructed elaborate scenarios of Cordy squeezing her ample breasts around his cock and letting him come all over her chest or moaning as Angel knelt before her throne and ate her out, bringing her to orgasm over and over again.  
  
Arriving home made things more bewildering. As much as Angel could chastise himself for being a pervert, seeing Cordelia again and holding her in that initial embrace was more frightening. Because the feeling he had that he never wanted to let her go was more affectionate than sexual, and that was a Pandora's Box Angel never wanted to open. He knew from the beginning that even if Cordelia reciprocated his interest, he could never, ever have sex with her, and he didn't want to know why.  
  
The knowledge that he could never be with Cordelia in reality did nothing to stop his desires, which were only fueled by being around her practically 24/7. He could no longer discount the tingles her little touches throughout the day would send through his body. Those gestures, even if they were intended to be friendly, stoked the fire within him. Her routine of patching him up after a fight had become more difficult. The slight touches to his bare skin were an exquisite torture, and Angel struggled to contain his reaction when Cordy knelt between his open legs to attend to wounds on his chest. When he looked at the intense look of concentration on her face, he had to remind himself to stop imagining what her full, pouty lips would look like stretched around his cock or how her hazel eyes would gaze up at him in lewd amusement as she bobbed her head up and down on his dick. At least until later, when he could pretend that his hand was her mouth and that he was spilling onto her tongue instead of his fingers.  
  
The training was another thing that brought Angel great pleasure, but great guilt at the same time. He was actually able to teach her things, but that didn't mean that he didn't notice the tight and revealing clothing Cordy wore or how beautiful she looked with heavier breathing, rosy cheeks, and a light sheen of sweat dampening her body. He never touched her in a way he shouldn't, but the brief touches to correct her fighting stance would make him think of gripping her hips and pulling her towards him so that she could feel exactly how much he wanted her. After each session, he would take a long, cold shower to "cool off" but he would still need to jack off to the elaborate fantasies he had invented of licking all the sweat off of her body, playfully "wrestling" with her on the mats until all of their clothes came off, or lifting her up into his arms and fucking her up against the wall of the basement.  
  
A few weeks after he returned home, Cordelia got her period, and Angel was uncomfortably aware of it in a way he hadn't been before. His reaction used to be a simple, awkward awareness brought on by the fact that he was a vampire and could readily detect the faint scent of blood from a woman's menses. That was his reaction to Fred getting her period, which proved that he wasn't an indiscriminate lech but had simply fixated on Cordy (which wasn't any less distressing). But with Cordelia, Angel had to nearly double his blood intake to sate his hunger because he felt so ravenous. He was constantly on edge, with white knuckles tightly gripping his glass of blood and a pasted on smile that he hoped didn't appear too feral. It took every ounce of control he had to act as if everything was normal around Cordy rather than falling to his knees and begging to taste her.  
  
For the past several hours, Angel had been attempting to concentrate on finding the demon that had been bothering their latest client. He had been focused on the books at first, but as the hours wore on, his mind wandered to Cordelia as it always did. Angel was not only a pervert, but a _pathetic_ , obsessive pervert.  
  
Angel heard a yawn and snapped his gaze over to Cordy, who had stood from her desk and was stretching her arms. Her shirt rode up slightly, exposing a strip of her lower stomach and Angel had to glance back at the book he was supposed to be reading.  
  
The clack of her heels on the tile caught his attention and Angel glanced up, gulping at what he saw. Cordy was wearing one of those little denim skirts she had taken to wearing a lot recently, and it hugged the curves of her ass and hips, which swayed as she walked over to the coffee machine. She leaned over to get a mug, and Angel's eyes were drawn to her long, tanned, muscular legs, which he wished he could feel wrapped around him as he made love to her.  
  
That was really the worst part of this, the fact that it had never been just about sex. He wanted her, yes, but he needed her, too, and not just for her visions as she had assumed. If Cordy had asked, he wouldn't be able to truthfully say that he needed her just for her friendship either, though that was certainly part of it. In every little daydream he'd had about her, it was always the fact that he was with Cordy that got to him the most. More than a few times, it had been an imagined whimper from her, a sharp cry of his name, or a soft declaration of love that would bring him to his climax. Even if it temporarily relieved his physical ache for her, giving into the urge to touch himself always made him feel a bit melancholy afterwards. He had to live with the guilt of what he had done, the knowledge that it could never be real, and the loneliness that came from the fact that he could never hold her, stroke her hair, or press soft kisses to her lips afterwards.  
  
Right now, he wished things were different. He wished he could sweep her up into his arms, kiss her, and lead her back to his desk while she giggled. He wanted to brush away the files, lift her up onto the table, and make love to her right on top of his desk. He wanted to hear her gasps and see her writhe underneath him. He wanted to bury his head in the place where her neck met her shoulder and bite down, and he wanted to feel her manicured nails digging into his shoulder blades as she cried out for more, harder, faster. Mostly, Angel wanted to be the one to make Cordy happy in a way he would never be allowed to.  
  
Angel heard steps coming towards him and saw Cordy approaching his desk. He shifted in his chair, trying to get comfortable despite the erection pressing against the fly of his pants. He cleared his throat and hoped that the lurid fantasy he had just been having about her wouldn't show all over his face.  
  
She put down a glass of blood on the desk, sliding it over towards him, but the blood wasn't what made his mouth water. Cordy had bent down slightly to put down the glass, and Angel had briefly seen a flash of cleavage. He longed to get his mouth on her gorgeous breasts and tease her nipples with his tongue and teeth. He wanted to feel her fingers tightening in his hair as she held him to her chest.  
  
He quickly dropped his gaze. Angel couldn't stare at her, not like that. He picked up the glass and smiled in gratitude. "Thanks."  
  
Angel sipped at his blood and gazed at Cordelia's frowning expression while he tried to ignore the way his cock was throbbing from the thoughts he had just been having.  
  
"Angel, are you okay? You seem kind of tense and... distracted."  
  
Angel grimaced. Cordy's concern was making him feel like an asshole. If she knew why he had been so tense and distracted, she definitely wouldn't feel sorry for him. She might recoil in disgust or fear, and there was the distinct possibility that she would never want to speak with him again.  
  
Even with all of the shame he felt, a part of Angel just wanted to kiss Cordy the longer that he stared at her compassionate, worried face. He was hopelessly in love with her, and he couldn't make it go away no matter how much he wanted to.  
  
But he could force a smile onto his face. "I'm fine, Cordy, really."  
  
Cordy's eyes narrowed, and Angel felt nervous. She knew him too well, could read him too closely, and clearly hadn't believed his reassurances.  
  
She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Angel, if there's something wrong, you can tell me. You know that, right? Whatever is going on with you, you don't have to deal with it alone."  
  
Her hand massaged his shoulder, and Angel felt like banging his head against the desk. Her attempt at comforting him only made things worse. He never wanted her to stop touching him.  
  
"I'm okay. Probably just a little tired."  
  
Cordy removed her hand from his shoulder. "It is getting kind of late, but at least we should be done soon. Feel better, okay, broody boy?"  
  
Angel gave her the best nod he could and let out a deep, unnecessary sigh once she had walked away. Cordy was wrong. Later, he would have to deal with this problem by himself, and he would continue to have to deal with it alone for the foreseeable future. Normally, despite his reticence, he could open up to Cordelia about the things that bothered him. But he could never tell her about this. He loved her too much, and it was best if she didn't know _how_ Angel loved her.  
  
For now, he needed to get back to work. He scanned the page, flipping it as he saw that it was not the demon they had been looking for. Angel wasn't as good at hiding things from himself as he used to be, but he needed to hide his feelings from Cordelia, for her sake and his, for as long as he could.


End file.
